


5 Times Darcy Lewis Got Her Period and 1 Time She Didn't (and SHIELD almost fell again)

by GreyNinjaKitty



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Darcy Lewis, BAMF Darcy Lewis, BAMF MCU Women, Can you ship it? Yes you can, Darcy God-Damn Lewis, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Hulk Smash, It Ain't Easy Being Green, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Pepperoni, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Tony Stark, Suitilicious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-07-18 16:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7322584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyNinjaKitty/pseuds/GreyNinjaKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Red Uterus' wasn't quite as catchy as Red Skull, but by the way certain Superheroes quailed in its path, Hydra only wished it was as regularly terrifying.</p><p> </p><p>Fluff/Crack (Flack? Cruff?) fic, and sweet like the wine and chocolate Darcy wants throughout most of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**One Woman Show**

 

On a balcony overlooking the white marble floored lobby of an extremely expensive hotel a little off Times Square, Darcy Lewis casually stepped around a pillar wearing a striking royal blue silk dress and the kind of strappy/pointy heeled shoes that made grown men beg. When she'd stopped by the lab en route to the party, Jane had kindly, in a non-SCIENCE brain moment, even noticed that the colour brought out her eyes. Scanning the area for eavesdroppers, she slid noiselessly up to the Black Widow, who (entirely unsurprised at her stealth approach) dipped a chin and quirked a perfectly shaped eyebrow in welcome, gaze remaining on the other guests at Starks latest product launch party. 

‘Code red, Red. Don’t suppose super spysassins carry spares?’ 

Rolling her eyes, Romanoff reached into her black velvet purse and leaned to pass her a tampon, suddenly turning the movement into a hand clasp. Pulling the brunette towards her, she was just in time to avoid the throwing star that now stuck out of the aforementioned column behind them- exactly where Darcy’s head would have been. Bright, angry green eyes flicked to the opposite side of the marble and gold balcony. A vanishing black suit jacket around the corner suggested their assailant knew better than to stick around. 

‘Go get to somewhere safe’ Nat ordered, full lips twisting angrily, then she took off after suit jacket, vaulting agilely over a careless placed large plant pot en route. Darcy blinked, wondering how her hair stayed so perfect even mid-flight, and looked around her, searching for a bathroom. Shouting alerted her to a fracas starting up to her right and in the lobby below, and as she looked left, a small brass glint above the Widow-hurdled fern caught her eye. 

‘Bazinga!’ Shouldering her bag and moving swiftly but cautiously around the now quiet corner, Darcy followed the yellow brick signs. 

-x-

He was hiding. Wise choice- she’d have him already if he’d kept running, and this way there was a chance of deniability and/or slipping out amongst a crowd. All he needed was a little peace and quiet and a new jacket and he was safe- well, until she got her hands on the security footage. Natasha paused and began to retrace her steps, sure she’d passed his refuge, her inner spider-sense tingling. Silent footsteps, even in Jimmy Choos, were one of her best practiced skills. She could even scale a chain link fence in them (and usually in under 10 seconds). She spotted a partially open door, and noted the disordered conference room, with another door only pulled to at the far end. Suspicious. 

-x-

Pushing quietly into the ladies room, tampon in hand, Darcy was beginning to feel a sense of urgency about her situation. It seemed too unfair- she was two full days early! Normally regular as clockwork, she just knew that contraceptive implant SHIELD had insisted on would play havoc with her system. Here was the proof. Agent Ipod-Stealer was going to get an earful for this, or her name wasn’t Darcy God-Damn Lewis*. 

She was past the fancy powder station (now she had moved into Avengers tower with Jane, she knew all about the unnecessarily fancy, thank you very much) and about to step off the carpet onto the marbled floor area towards the stalls. At the far end, the stall door swung open and a man came out. Freezing, her first thought was along the approximate lines of ‘Oh crap- I’m in the men’s room’. However, the lack of urinals and abundance of pink suggested she was in the right place. His considering frown suggested that he had perhaps realised this also. 

‘It’s ok, buddy- we’ve all done it at some point’ she commiserated, walking towards the nearest stall, moving the tampon towards her pocket. 

‘Hands in the air!’

 Pointing a scarily large looking black 9mm at her seemed like rather an overreaction on his part, she thought, frankly. Licking her lips nervously, she moved her hands slowly in front of her, raising them slightly. 

‘Drop it! Drop it now!’

 He wasn’t shouting, but the intensity in his voice was more frightening than anything else. She started to feel very uncomfortable. 

‘Chill, dude! It’s just a tampon! I kind of need it, though…urgently.’ 

The words were out before she’d had a chance to think them through. His forehead creased briefly, as she opened her palm, showing him the little cotton bullet, while carefully keeping her hands away from her body. 

‘Drop it anyway! You won’t need it,’ he leered, eyes narrowing as he clearly came to a decision that did not bode well for her. Darcy gulped, and started reluctantly straightening her fingers, until only her thumb pinned the tampon to her hand. 

‘Listen, this is really uncool…’ she started, when suddenly a ceiling panel exploded over his head, a flash of familiar black velvet jumpsuit and red hair the only thing Darcy saw as she flung herself back around the corner to avoid the struggle. The ping-splat of a bullet impacting a soap dispenser, reminded her of her own leakage issue, and she looked at her hand. Empty. Damnit. 

Peeking around the corner, she saw Natasha and suit jacket rolling on the floor, silently fighting for dominance. Approximately four feet away from the flailing limbs, a small plastic wrapped packet of cotton sat innocently, intact… 

Nat knocked the gun from his hand, and it slid…. ‘Nooooo!’ Darcy whispered, as the gun slid the tampon another couple of feet from her. Setting her bag down, and removing her heels, she braced herself. Diving out from around the corner, she threw herself towards tampon and gun, and miraculously managed to obtain both and slide into the end stall without attracting any attention. 

Thirty seconds later, she exited the stall, and pointed the gun at suit jacket, who was surprisingly non-incapacitated, and fighting to plunge his thumb into Natasha’s eye, while she slowly inched a knife closer to his jugular, both using their other hands to resist the other’s attack. 

‘Freeze, mothertrucker’ she announced, ‘that’s no way to treat a lady, and as you know, I’m hormonally disposed towards murder.’ 

A moment of hesitation on his part gave Natasha what she needed to get the upper hand, and before long he was trussed up like a Christmas turkey, with Natasha sat on his back. 

‘Call it in, Darcy’ she instructed, her breathing slightly audible in the now silent bathroom. Darcy handed her the gun, nodding and fetched her phone. 

‘Darcy?’ 

‘Hi Clint- we got a situation in the ladies room.’ 

His voice, initially calm became a little resigned. ’Darcy, this is no time for…’ 

Exasperation coloured her reply, as she rolled her eyes. ’Not that kind of…well kind of…but Nat got a bad guy. On the second floor. I’m calling it in. Whatever that means…’ 

‘Ok,’ Clint’s tone sharpened ‘we’ll be right there. The situation’s calming out here, but I’ll send someone asap. I think Steve’s just done on the ground floor…’ 

Darcy snickered. ‘Will he even be comfortable going into a Ladies room?’ 

Floor guy struggled, and Nat pressed the gun into his neck more firmly for emphasis, which Darcy took as a sign to hurry. ‘Ok, send someone soon! Bye!’ She hung up, and nervously jammed her phone back in her purse, approaching Natasha, who tilted her head towards her. ‘If you need to…then now’s the time’ the redhead said, meaningfully. 

Darcy stared at her, and the assassin eventually spared a glance up at her inquisitively. 

‘Nat, why did you think I took so long to pull the gun? I’m all set, lady. Done and dusted. Fastest draw in the west…So to speak,’ she defended, and then grinned in reply as a slow smile crept across Natasha’s perfectly made up cheeks. 

\-- 

 

*Not that it was, but as her parents were fond of saying, it might as well have been.


	2. Catalysts

The atmosphere was tense in Avengers Tower. 

After a particularly trying few days foiling an attempt at world conquest via genetically modified carnivorous seagulls, the occupants of Stark Tower were all ready for a quiet weekend. Tea, television, training in the gym and other similar variations on the theme of downtime. However, with a truly Starkian combination of panache and unfortunate timing, Tony had spectacularly exploded an experimental modification to his latest Iron Man suit at 4am Friday morning during ‘tinkering and chill’ time. 

The resulting shockwave burst several floor to ceiling windows in the lab, and prompted an explosion alert from JARVIS. This in turn caused the in-lab assembly of several fully armed and highly strung Avengers at 4.03am, a distressed phone call from Pepper at 4.05am, and a Captain-imposed-but-unanimously-agreed Lab Ban for Tony until at least 8am. 

As a consequence of this disastrous turn of events, it was necessary to both relocate and re-calibrate several rather delicate SCIENCE critical machines later that morning. This begot extreme sighing from Drs Banner and Foster, to whom said-machines were indispensable, and the delaying of three time sensitive experiments between them. The 8.15am email announcement by Pepper of the necessary relocation to a decidedly smaller, less comfortable temporary lab for the day while clean-up occurred was met with decidedly grumpy exchanged looks too. 

Despite feeling less chipper than average herself, Darcy left the two scientists sharing the large but decidedly creaky central bench, laptops and brains fired up, and booked it down to the streets of Manhattan. Bringing in coffee and their favourite food in order to try and boost the mood and make for a less cranky atmosphere would make the afternoon tolerable for any and all lab dwellers, and visitors. Plus, sunlight was seriously scarce when Jane was on a Science binge.

Unfortunately, in the half-hour it had taken to obtain said items, an important napkin notation of Jane’s had gone missing, and in the ensuing frantic search, Bruce had knocked one of his large camomile teas over. The tidal tea spill devastated the wider piles of napkin, post-it and other notes that covered the desk. Both scientists had rushed to save the paperwork and this resulted in Jane knocking a large glass flask of ethanol onto Bruce’s foot. While the glass hadn’t broken, the shock of the injury had made Bruce’s eyes turn green, visibly scaring Jane, which further peeved Dr B. 

Darcy’s entry with curry and dim sum was potentially the only thing that had prevented Astrophysicist VS Hulk: The Movie. 

 

So when ignoring each other had turned into passive aggressive sniping after lunch, and continued to escalate, Darcy began to feel rather frustrated herself. 

‘Is that the latest data from the CERN report you’re resting your sticky spoon on, Dr?’

‘Surely this can’t be anything too important, as it’s on MY side of the bench…’

‘Thanks for scribbling all over my notes about how CRISPR technology could be to treat Gamma radiation poisoning at the macro-cellular level…’

‘Strange how all my written equations have petri dish ring marks on them…’

Frowning at a particularly passive aggressive dig from Banner, Darcy stood, crossing her arms and scraping her stool back loudly, summoning their attention with a loud whistle.

‘Alright, time out! An hour’s break- everyone out. Leave. Scram. Mandatory fresh air and chill. Or face The Wrath Of Darcy.’

The stress levels were high. The three looked at each other, each clearly straining to remain calm.

‘What? There's far too much to do...’

‘Why? It's clear it wasn't my fault...’

Jane flung Banner a disgruntled look, then turned to her intern, who angrily tapped a foot at her, indicating her desire for them to leave- stat.

‘Honestly, Darcy- I think you need to remember who the intern is here!’

Jane flung angrily at the brunette, stepping away from the bench. Darcy whipped her head 'round to store at her friend/boss in furious disbelief.

‘Say…WHAT?’ 

There was a moment of silence, broken only by a soft noise from Bruce. Darcy and Jane stared at each other, surprised by the anger and intensity in Darcy’s voice. Jane began to look sheepish.

The moment broke when Bruce doubled over, whispering-

‘Run!’

 

 

Darcy and Jane took him at his word, and legged it from the lab, Jane smacking the large green button (thanks, Tony) by the door on her way through it. Neither of them looked back, tearing down the hallway and flinging themselves down the stairs. Bruce’s chosen transformations were frightening, but allowed him to retain a measure of control. Those prompted by a reaction to extreme emotion or surprise had proven harder to plan for, and sometimes Hulk emerged and smashed before he took stock of what, or who, was too close for comfort. Occasionally, when triggered by anger, he would hunt the offending person(s) in a predatorial rage, which rarely ended well. Bruce had, with a great deal of embarrassment, therefore made all the civilians who worked with him agree to always run first and worry about his feelings later. 

Once they were fifteen floors down, away from the sounds of pounding and crashing, and breathing hard, they started to join the evacuation queue to lower levels. Darcy started cursing under her breath as she inched forwards, the movement totally ignored by her friend. 

‘Darcy- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’

Jane’s voice was serious (or ‘seriously out of breath’ as Darcy might have put it in a lighter moment). 

Darcy licked her lips, and nodded. 

‘It’s ok, boss lady. It was quite a day.’

A beat. Then Jane hugged her, and it was suddenly ok again. Darcy smiled against her hair, and squeezed, before leaning back into her place in the queue, murmuring-

‘So- is this my fault? Maybe we could just tell people that Bruce knocked the freaking ethanol on his foot, and leave it at that, right? Probably best, you know how Bruce gets when people speculate about his emotional control. I mean, we’ve all stubbed a toe, and man, that can seriously sting…’

Then, she suddenly and rather abruptly fell silent. This out of character behaviour caught Jane’s attention faster than any number of creatively composed insults or babble would have done. 

‘…Darcy?’ 

The accused messed with her grey denims and then her flannel shirt sleeves. Pulled at the hem of her indigo Cherry Bomb t-shirt. Jane waited, eyes wandering down the line as they shuffled slowly along the corridor.

’Nothing. I mean, I’m fine. Wow, this is taking long. The longest. Forever. Terrible health and safety protocol for evac. Hmm. Do you think there’s time for a bathroom break? And out of interest- do you have a quarter?’ 

Jane looked incredulously at her, eyes wide and lips pursed in horror. ‘No! No bathroom breaks during an evacuation! A quarter? Why..? Oh. Ah. Oh. I see…’

Being friends with a super smart scientist had a major perk in the whole ‘clue to conclusion in under 5 seconds’ part of awkward discussions, Darcy acknowledged. She nodded. 

‘Mmm. My horse, my horse, my kingdom for a…well, supplies. Darn SHIELD implant. Ooh, a quarter! You know, I’m pretty sure, given that this is the slowest moving line *ever*, I could totally hop out, grab me a quick dash to the bathroom, and be back here in approximately two minutes… Otherwise both you and my dignity will be stuck behind me for the foreseeable future…’

She blinked. 

‘Wow, it would literally be a ‘sticky situation’. Textbook. Oh god, this will totally be on my tombstone: She Died Of Embarassment. On the other hand, I guess it kinda explains the shouting earlier…’

Jane’s forehead creased. Darcy could see that she was actually considering approving the detour, and made with the puppy eyes. Then a bulky, ripped chunk of building screamed past the window and impacted sideways off a strut, causing the window to shake with the shockwave. A couple of newbies shrieked. Those who had worked at Stark Industries longer than two weeks simply edged away from the windows and went back to the email inboxes on their Starkphones. Jane and Darcy sighed. The line moved- clearly people in front had surged forwards in reaction to the destruction. They turned a corner, and two corridors forked ahead. Lo and behold: on the right, away from the evacuation staircase, a shiny silver bathroom sign. Jane raised a hand, seeing a vision of the future that she was too slow to prevent.

‘Darcy- wait, I…’

‘Sorry, Jane! See you in a sec- I’ll be right back!’ 

Darcy darted forward, out of the scrum, down the right hand corridor leading towards the centre of Stark tower. Jane elbowed her way past a couple of panicking accountants, and followed her intern. Behind them, the same suits stared as they caught a glimpse of red and gold flash past the window. 

Darcy slammed into the bathroom, and went straight for the dispenser. One benefit of a female CEO had been extremely reduced prices in the necessities machines within the female bathrooms (and reportedly, the addition of vending machines into the mens, which held everything from deodorant to plain white shirts and red ties. Darcy fumbled in her pockets, and dropped the quarter she had fished out as Jane flew into the bathroom behind her. 

‘Hurry!’

‘I would, but you made me drop it!’

‘Quick- try this one!’

‘Fine! Oh no, it’s stuck…’

‘Slam it!’

‘OW! These things are slam-proof! Jane, what are you…’

For a petite astrophysicist, Dr Jane Foster had one hell of a right hook. Thor ought to be proud. Proud-er. Proudest. Whatever. Darcy stared at her friend, a new level of respect in her eyes. Jane flushed. 

‘Here you go- now hurry!’

‘Fine! One second…’

Darcy hurried into the end stall, not even bothering to shut the door, as Jane peeked anxiously into the hallway. Amid much rustling, Jane noticed that the hallway was sounding increasingly silent. Darcy mumbled to herself, providing Jane with a running commentary about her progress, which was a level of TMI that frankly, she could have done without. The silence began to bother Jane, and hair prickled on the back of her neck. 

‘Darcy- we need to go. Now. Right now!’

A brief sound of plastic, and Darcy hurried out of the stall, reaching her hands under the water at the sink. She turned off the tap and moved towards the dryers, just in time to shriek and clutch at Jane as plaster and porcelain shards exploded from the sinks behind them, and a huge green fist withdrew, leaving jets of water gushing from surrounding pipes. The cloud of dust set them coughing, but the noise was lost in the Hulk’s roaring, and tearing at the hole he’d made. 

Hardly breathing, Jane pushed Darcy backwards as the wall collapsed, tearing out a larger section of the sinks. The sight of further green skin pushed the girls to rush through the now open doorway- the frame was hanging by the top hinge, door spun crazily sideways and outwards. Their movement seemed to catch Hulk’s attention, as an angry grunting noise followed them, as well as the sound of more smashing, as they raced back down the corridor. All the people had vanished- the line gone. Then, as they reached the head of the stairs, the ceiling and windows exploded around them, and they were falling…falling…

 

‘Taken up skydiving, pikachu?’

Swooping upwards, the impact of being caught against the Iron Man suit having knocked the sass and breath right out of her, Darcy couldn’t do much more than close her eyes against the cold, cold wind. She internally thanked her lucky stars for the modification that allowed the suit to hold her, and fretted about Jane.

‘Don’t worry, Thor’s got her- all heroic and cape-y, but we gotta get Banner to calm down. What happened?’

Darcy had managed to open her eyes against the red armour, but the wind was causing her to tear up, so she smushed her face against him, and mumbled about the ethanol.

‘What’s that, cupcake? Wait- JARVIS is saying you’re bleeding. Ok, we’re going down.’

Forcing her eyes open, she tried to shake her head, the wind resistance really cramping her style. Tony’s voice was serious, and she could tell he was worried. 

‘No fussing- how bad is it? JARVIS? Calculate blood loss.’

The A.I. seemed to convey a mild sense of alarm, quietly audible just outside the suit.

‘Although not fatal, there is significant blood loss. Medical assistance is waiting, with Ms Potts, at the coordinates on screen, Sir.’

This roused Darcy enough to bash her head against the suit. She tucked her head in, and hoped JARVIS might catch her words, even if Tony couldn’t.

‘It’s fine- I don’t need Medics! It’s my period!’

She felt the helmet turn to look at her. 

‘JARVIS- did you get that? Is she in pain?’

‘No, Sir. However, her heart rate is elevated, and I estimate that even with high cortisol levels in the bloodstream, the spike just now combined with blood loss suggests so.’

She could feel Tony put on a burst of speed, and opened her mouth to try shouting again, but the breath was stolen from her lungs as the wind ripped past. She felt a little faint at the sudden lack of oxygen, but sipped at the air, determined to have another go, bellowing: 

‘IT’S JUST MY PERIOD!’

 

Tony suddenly slowed, and her words almost made her jump as they echoed loudly back at her. Cringing, she suspiciously opened her eyes. A crowd of medics, Jane, some random onlookers, Captain America and an impeccably dressed Pepper Potts stared back at her as they touched down.

She heard Tony whisper inside the suit, just before the visor snapped up.

‘JARVIS- make a note to sync hormonal data in future.’ 

She knew her face must be radish-like in it’s glow, outshining even the Iron Man armour. Steve met her eyes, blushing intensely, and sort of nodded at her before he rushed away in what she assumed was some sort of macho 'got to save the world/oh god get me away from the uncontrollable ovaries' move. Jane, moving forward with Pepper, mouthed ‘Tombstone’ at her in the way that only a best friend can.

‘Sorry, Lewis. I’ll order in chocolate ice cream to the lounge later- looks like you and Cap'll both need it. If we still have rooms. Gotta go…’ 

Tony released her, and the metal band around her waist retracted, Pepper reaching out to steady her and smile at Tony. Jane tugged her away, and as soon as they was clear, he turned, and launched himself back towards Stark Tower, where a shower of falling glass sparkling in the sunlight proved that it was not yet safe to return.

Pepper, cool as a cucumber, smiled reassuringly at her and gestured to the sky, where a loud roaring could be heard.

‘Well, at least you don’t generally break windows when you PMS…’

\----------------------------------------


	3. Red, red wine...

The smell of the club clung to her jacket as she burst out of the doors, stumbling into the alleyway and past the line of people queuing to get in. The bouncer shouted something after her as she caught herself with a hand against the wall and pushed off again, ignoring him, away from the noise. Pulling her jacket close, she folded her arms and clacked away, boot heels snapping angrily against the sidewalk. The side streets were dark and menacing as she strode past, sticking to the better lit routes, but away from the busy main road. Occasionally another passerby would lift their eyes to hers, but she ignored them all, head -and emotions- up high. The wind was cool that night, fall on the air along with crisp leaves and pumpkin spice, and it tossed her hair lightly, making her nerve endings tingle and snap. 

That morning, she had been helping Jane set up a new machine that could do something with Quarks. She’d been all ‘yay, Physics!’ and Jane had been all ‘I know, right?’ Everything had been copacetic. She’d chilled her pants at lunch and had ramen with Sam, who made her feel kind of zen, her twitter had been LIT after she’d posted a hastily snapped picture of Thor asleep in an armchair and a tactfully posed soft toy bunny on his shoulder. Plus, in a communal win, the Avengers chaotic landlord slash overlord-wannabe was being kept in check for the afternoon by his benevolent dictator/goddess. 

 She should have known really, that as her iPod automatically hit her up with Layla (a bit of Eric never hurt a girl, right?) that the Universe was queuing her up for some kind of shit.  

Crisp leaves crunched under her boots, as trees began to line the pavement. Their towering branches felt protective of her moods, acknowledging the darkness in the world, that sometimes at night things weren’t right. Bad things happened to good people. Shadows crept in, lurking at the edge of the party, and weren’t chased away by the brightness, but rather waited hungrily for someone to step away from the feast and friends. In that moment, they struck. Ruining things. Cancelling joy. Trust broken. In a moment of necessary absence, the world could change completely.

Tucking her bad in close against her side, long strap running across her body, Darcy shrugged herself deeper into her jacket and refused to cry as she began a lonely trek home.

—-

Soft incense curled around the room, from a well burned taper across the mantel of the training room. Consciously releasing the last moment of savasana, Bruce rolled slowly onto his right side, and came to a seated position, feeling the tips of his toes tingling and the boost to his circulation. 120 minutes of intense yoga would do that to a body. 

Centering himself, he came to his feet, breathing the incense in deeply and stretching and flexing vertebra and muscle along his spine and torso. The small smile he allowed, as it was between him and his yoga mat. Pulling on a plain blue cotton thermal, he wiped his mat and rolled it for storage in it’s usual place next to the small brazier, ready for some tea. 

Selecting fresh ginger from the spice rack and black tea leaves from the freshly imported jar (which Tony kept insisting wasn’t flown directly from the markets every week especially for him- a white lie he allowed, despite recognising it as a preference of his Indian, pre-Avenger days), he sliced three thin strips into the central well of his favourite pot and added a small handful of leaves. Grabbing his favourite white mug, he checked the kitchen timer, and prepared to wait the necessary 3.5 minutes for it to brew.

Hearing the elevator ping, he took in a low, cleansing breath- just in case. 

Turns out, the breath was justified, as their resident astrophysics enabler strides into the kitchen like a developing electric storm. Internally, Hulk raised his head and Bruce hurries to check on the tea, aware the smell will counterbalance his reaction to her clear disturbance.

She bobs her head at him, her hair falling in front of her face, and Bruce is just sharp enough to notice that her eyes are curiously red. 

‘Darcy- is everything ok?’

She flicks another half-hidden look at him from her position at the open fridge door, pulling out a tray of Brownies. 

’Livid but vivid, Dr B.’

He watches her select a brownie, slap it on a plate, and reach for a bottle of wine tucked at the very back of the cupboard. Drawing it onto the table, he watches in fascination as she carefully peels off the label (depicting what, until now everyone had recognised- and in Tony’s case, despaired of- as her favourite cheap merlot) and reveal a pretty decent Cotes du Rhone.  

‘Wha…why?’

He manages to ask, not sure if he’s asking about the wine or her reply, but too bemused to prevent himself from blurting out the question. She flicks her head back as she angrily scrapes the sharpened edge of the corkscrew around the top of the bottle to open the dark red wrapping. Ripping this away, she places the tip of the screw into the revealed cork, and twists with a violence that makes Bruce wince and lean away a little. 

‘Oblivious idiots. Stupid, testosterone filled… Plus, Alcohol thieves. That’s why.’

Bruce’s forehead wrinkled. 

‘I’m…Not sure I understand…’

 

Darcy drew the cork free of the bottle in a smooth motion, producing an expert-sounding soft pop, and in the same move, tossed the corkscrew onto the counter. Setting the bottle down next to the Brownie, she reaches into the drawer to grab a fork.  Facing away from him, she exhales audibly through her mouth, and toys with the implement.

‘When a girl gets invited to the club with a man on a third date, she might have… _hopes_. Not unreasonably. But sometimes, she can’t follow through on all of those- even if she’d like to- because she’s on Day 1 of her P to the D. Therefore, so to speak, a different D may be off the agenda. However, in a scenario when her date finds out and decides to hook up -passionately- with another girl while she’s in the bathroom for five minutes, it’s freakin' fancy wine o’clock, my friend. Which is all the why.’

Bruce sifts through the babble and, once a clearer picture emerges, has to breathe through a shift of rising rage. This is actually helped by the timer going off- the distraction disrupts him from his anger and boots him out of his thoughts. He presses the button that stops the soft beeps and moves closer. Unable to think of anything better, and with an undertone of the Big Guy still in his voice, he growls out:

‘What a dick- I’m sorry, Darcy.’

Seeing  deep sympathy in his warm brown eyes, she nods wordlessly, clearly blinking back feelings, and sets the fork on the plate. Clearly more bothered than she’s letting on, Darcy breathes in deeply and raises the bottle high to her mouth.

A change in the air, and he hears footsteps in the corridor to their left. Steve is there, leather jacket on and bike keys in hand. Clearly heading out. Shock, and something else flickers momentarily across the other man's bright eyes, and Bruce frowns at him reprovingly before turning back to their poorly treated friend. Darcy lowers the bottle after her short slug, and, not seeing the new arrival, picks up her plate. Crossing the kitchen towards the lounging area and her favourite sofa, she softly mumbles a forlorn ‘me too’ into the softly lit room. She starts to settle on the sofa facing the TV, back to the kitchen, and bustles with her things. 

In the corridor, Steve raises an eyebrow at Bruce. Bruce helpfully mouths ‘guy trouble’ at him. Steve’s face goes cold, and he frowns after her, making a move like he’s going to set down his keys and join them. Darcy slumps on the sofa, rustling with blankets and clinking, and calls back to Bruce:

‘Feel like watching something? I need to see a lot of things blow up right now… Including lots of tall, attractive blonde men. How about a Die Hard movie?’

A beat. Bruce isn’t exactly watching Steve’s face, he is turning to reply, but never the less, he sees shutters flicker across his tall, blonde friend’s eyes as he lifts his mug and tea pot carefully. Feeling the need to respond and forestall any more distress, he only pauses by the counter for a second as a drop of tea escapes onto the side. 

‘Well, as a shorter fellow-brunette, I’ll stay a little while,’ Bruce calls back through, projecting a smile into his tone ‘unless..?’

When he turns back to share a look of invitation with Steve, all he sees is brown leather vanishing through the doors to the stair well. 

————

Sunday morning dawns far too soon, and Darcy is woken by both an alert from JARVIS and a firm knock on her apartment door at 9am. When she very (very) blearily opens it, she needs a moment, as it looks like a prank- nobody’s there. Great, just what she needed when fighting off the after effects of her mild red wine/sugar hangover. 

However, as she looks around, she spots a festive green cup with a grande peppermint mocha, steaming hot, and a warm croissant in a small brown bag sat outside. Bending to pick them up, she sees her name scrawled on the side of the cup. A flicker of a smile at the edges of her lips surprises even her. Scientists really are the best. Bruce is such a sweetie, coming down just to cheer her up with her favourite coffee, and carbs. Much needed carbs. Oh god, tannins, why…? Dashing back into the apartment, she thinks that this might be the one morning her brain and stomach might actually prefer one of his ginger teas…

——-

Later, at a surprisingly well attended Sunday lunch in the communal kitchen, she pops her pal gently on a surprisingly muscly shoulder and grins at him. Thor looks on fraternally, casually devouring a large T-bone steak as Jane scowls at the casual interruption to their science talk over her roast chicken. 

‘What was that for?’

Bruce smiles back at her, as Natasha throws a pea at Clint, who catches it in his mouth mid-sentence. Steve shakes his head at the two of them, and considerately passes Pepper the green beans, past an oblivious Tony who is prattling to her about 12% of something or other in a way that makes her smile as she adds a few to his plate. Darcy ducks her head, red lips pressed together and pushes a bit of chicken around her plate. 

‘Just- thanks for being a bro. Much appreciated, dude. Very thoughtful.’ 

Bruce nods. 

‘Plus, you know I love croissants. It really made my morning.’ 

Bruce completely fails to stop an eyebrow slide upwards. 

‘It…did…?’

 

Without warning, or chance for further discussion, the spysassin vegetable battle dramatically escalates to all out war. After a brief moment of intense crossfire that has non-combatants implement napkin shield protocols and cry for truce, Pepper stands abruptly, hand cupped about three inches down from her collarbone. Tony, probable instigator of the pea that went down her pale silk camisole, smiles innocently up at her. 

‘Pep, you’re making Cap blush with all that rummaging…Let’s go fix your shirt together. Now.’

She sighs at him prohibitively, and he leaps up, completely undeterred. Thor and Jane laugh, and he tucks a hand around her shoulders. Darcy smiles in commiseration at Steve, who frowns at a fast-exiting stage left Tony and pinks slightly more around the ears. 

Bruce may be the only one who noticed that Steve was definitely blushing pre-pea. 

 

So to speak.

 


End file.
